


Make It Real

by petroltogo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bigotry & Prejudice, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Heir of Slytherin Harry Potter, Hogwarts Second Year, How Harry Becomes A Dark Lord (Through Absolutely No Effort Of His Own), Humor, Miscommunication, Oblivious Harry, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Ridiculousness All Around, Rumors, The Power Of Gossip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24641914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petroltogo/pseuds/petroltogo
Summary: "If Potter reallyisSlytherin’s heir though…"The aftermath of Lockhart’s dueling club leaves Hogwarts reeling and four houses at a loss of how to handle a Boy Who Lived who is apparently a Dark Lord in the making. Five people who didn’t speak up, but could have, and how their input plants seeds that will reshape the story as we know it.
Comments: 31
Kudos: 277





	Make It Real

Hufflepuff was in a state of quiet uproar — 'quiet' only because the excitable first years had already been sent to bed by Prefect Hillary Goldbert, who had then proceeded to glare the inhabitants of the entire common room down to an acceptable noise level. Not that the whispers did anything to calm the very real rage swirling and bristling underneath.

The second years — who, under normal circumstances, would have been excused from this emergency meeting due to their age — in particular could not and did not hide their fury. They clustered around little Justin, who had been inconsolable ever since Potter had almost set a snake on him. A heartwarming action in the eyes of those who weren’t too busy gritting their teeth at the events of this afternoon.

One of their own had been attacked. If the by now infamous, bloody message on the second floor was right, muggleborns were being hunted. That already didn’t make a lot of people happy — rampant discrimination inside the house had never taken as strong a hold in Hufflepuff as it had in other Hogwarts houses that came to mind — but now some upstart second year had thought it wise to attack a member of their house because of it.

 _No one_ attacked a Hufflepuff, pureblooded or otherwise.

Apparently, Potter hadn’t yet gotten that message yet. Measures would need to be taken to correct this oversight. Though the decision would ultimately be left up to the second years — as they had been the ones’ threatened, it was only fair they would hand out the punishment — the older years were present to both, advise them and keep things from escalating further.

[Potter may have been out of line, but he _was_ a second year student. There were certain lines even Justin would not be allowed to cross without just reason.]

Thus, Ernie and Hannah, both normally reserved bordering on shy, led a passionate discussion on appropriate responses. At least that was how they had gotten started. They were currently locked in an argument on the pros and cons of a school-wide shut out.

"The Gryffindors’ would never go along with it," Ernie was pointing out. "Potter’s their golden boy."

"More importantly their star seeker," Leanne commented and pushed another of her mother’s homemade pastries into Justin’s thankfully no longer trembling hands.

"Because who cares if he’s a bloody Dark Lord, as long as he gets them the Quidditch Cup." Susan rolled her eyes, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"You think Gryffindor’s gonna be the problem?" Zacharias — who was trying very hard to pretend he eyeing every corner of the common room suspiciously as though a snake would jump out of one any moment now — piped up incredulously. "The day Malfoy manages not to say a single word to Potter is the day I’ll denounce my heritage as an heir of Hufflepuff!"

"Is that meant as a dramatic exaggeration poking fun at Malfoy’s crush or yet another reminder that his family are _the_ Smiths?" Laureen Collins, third year Half-Blood, mutters rhetorically under her breath, much to the amusement of her best friend Billy Quinn.

"Knowing Smith? Both. Definitely both."

Across the room, Kennedy Oltown closed pinched the bridge of his nose. The boy was quieter than most and usually preferred the company of his Ravenclaw cousin or animals over his housemates, but he was by no means disliked or even shy. Just— withdrawn. Easily fading into the background amongst his more well-known year mates Susan Bones and Zacharias Smith and the more notorious ones like Ernie Macmillan.

[They were a good bunch, those second years. Well-rounded, with enough diversity and talent spread out among them to make for many interesting conversations and friendships. Fifth year prefect Cedric Diggory envied them, for that, just a bit.]

"Is this really the best idea?" Kennedy spoke up, deliberately loud enough to be clearly heard over the escalating argument between Zacharias and Hannah. Those two did not do well together, not without someone else there to mediate and ease the tension. Hannah put too much stock into all beings’ equality, while Zacharias’s dedication was mostly focused on his family’s heritage. Thankfully, Susan and Hannah were close because the Bones’ heiress had a spine of steel and was not afraid to cow either of them into silence.

"What do you mean?" Leanne asked immediately, always eager to include Kennedy when he showed even a tiny bit of interest. "Ken?"

Justin, too, turned his attention on his younger dorm mate and Susan smacked Smith’s shoulder, gesturing for him to shut up.

Kennedy licked his lips, visibly uncomfortable at suddenly becoming the centre of attention. Then he shrugged. "I just wonder if revenge really is the best option, is all."

"He attacked Justin!"

"Technically he spoke to a snake Malfoy conjured that ended up not attacking Justin."

"Only because Professor Snape banished it before Potter had the chance!" Hannah exclaimed, still outraged on behalf of her friend.

"Maybe." Kennedy frowned, looking not at all convinced, but he didn’t bother arguing. "It doesn’t make much of a difference. The point is, Potter is a parselmouth. There’s an actual, real possibility that he’s Slytherin’s Heir."

"Exactly!" Zacharias waves his arms around wildly. "That’s why—"

"If Potter really _is_ Slytherin’s Heir though," Kennedy interrupts the blustering boy impatiently, "do you honestly think antagonizing him is the best idea?"

Susan pressed her lips together in a tight line and for a moment it was easy to see her aunt in the little girl’s place — easy to see the woman she would grow up to be one day. "Heir or not, he still set a snake on Justin. And might have even petrified Mrs Norris. That’s not alright and we can’t let him get away with it. I’m not gonna— gonna bow down to some little wannabe Dark Lord!" Her voice started out even and determined, but grew more high-pitched towards the end. Going by the angry mutters that followed her proclamation, she was not the only one feeling this way.

"Nobody’s saying anything about bowing." Kennedy actually rolled his eyes. "Potter is _twelve_. Merlin, he’s smaller than _Leanne_. And I’m not saying it was right, okay. All I’m saying is, if you’re sure that he’s gonna go dark, maybe you shouldn’t go out of your way to give him a reason to come after you next."

Said to a girl who had lost most of her family to the last Dark Lord to terrorize this country, the words were perhaps more cruel than intended, but they got the message across all the same.

"He didn’t need any reason to go after Justin!" Ernie clenched his hands, so it was hard to tell whether they were shaking with anger, frustration or fear. Maybe all three of them.

"Didn’t he?" Kennedy raised his eyebrows at the boy at the center of the entire mess. He didn’t sound particularly accusatory, but neither did he sound truly curious.

"I—" Justin blinked. Frowned. Shook his head emphatically. "I didn’t do anything to Potter. I swear! I didn’t even see him in the crowd before Professor Lockhart pulled him up for the demonstration! _I didn’t_."

"Of course you didn’t, Justin." Ernie curled an arm around his friend’s shoulders and pulled him closer. Not that there wasn’t much room to begin with. The sofas definitely weren’t meant to hold more than three people, even if said people were small, wiry second years. "You’re not that kind of person."

Susan, on the other hand, was still looking at Kennedy unerringly. "What do _you_ think Justin did?"

There was no missing the challenge in her question.

"I think Potter pulled a Hufflepuff."

" _What?!_ "

Kennedy pinched the bridge of his nose again, a sure sigh that he considered his statement a sufficient explanation and was exasperated at realizing he would have to spell it out to his year mates.

"Potter probably heard about your fight with Thomas and Finnigan. My guess would be, he gave it a week to see if you’d apologize and when you didn’t, he took matters into his own hands."

While most of the common room exchanged on confused or surprised glances at the unexpected answer, Leanne’s head snapped up in sudden realization. "That’s why he didn’t make the snake attack you!" she cried. "It wasn’t a punishment, it was a warning!"

"You had a fight with the Gryffindors?" a third year asked curiously.

"No, just those two. Well, Thomas really." Justin lowered his head, his short hair doing little to hide the shame-faced blush on his cheeks. "It was stupid. We started talking about Muggle things and it was fine, except— we come from very different places. And well, I said something." He swallowed. "I didn’t even mean to be r-racist, I swear! It wasn’t— I tried to apologize, but he wasn’t listening and then he made some comments about my family, our money, how I was no better than the likes of Malfoy and I must like playing the victim role here on top of it, and I got angry. It— got pretty ugly. Finnigan tried to jinx me and then Professor Flitwick showed up."

Justin’s voice had been quiet the entire time he recounted the tale, but towards the end it grew into a barely audible whisper. "They both got detention for ganging up on a Hufflepuff."

Leanne grimaced. They were all well aware of the stereotypes associated with their house and like the other three, they took turns in despising them and profiting from them. "I’m guessing they weren’t pleased?"

"Furious, more like it. I’m pretty sure if he could’ve, Finnigan would’ve set me on fire right there, professor or no professor. Didn’t help that I got of scot-free."

"Well, you didn’t throw any curses," Ernie pointed out.

"Yeah." Justin sounded less than convinced. "Doesn’t excuse what I said though. I— really crossed a line."

"Then why didn’t you apologize?"

The question earned Susan a glower. "Have you ever tried apologizing to two irate Gryffindors holding wands or knives or both and glaring at you with murder in their eyes?" Justin snapped irritably. "I felt bad, not bad enough to make a complete ass of myself in front of all students and teachers! I tried to talk to them on the way to charms once, but Finnigan promised he’d push me down the stairs if I came any closer."

"To be fair, that’s Hannah’s Plan E for Potter," Susan commented off-handedly — because every time the Hufflepuffs noticed just how scarily the girl could be, she reminded them that her best friend was _way_ scarier.

"Still, it was _one_ argument." Ernie said. "I can’t imagine Potter would go that far for a little disagreement he wasn’t in any way involved in."

"Plus, Potter isn’t even close with them," Hannah added. "They might be in the same year, but he spends all his time with Granger and Weasley."

"Okay, one—" here Kennedy pointed at Hannah, "—we don’t know that. They still share a dorm. Besides what does it matter if it’s house loyalty, a favor to a friend or a rising Dark Lord’s possessiveness? And as for two," here he nodded towards Ernie, "we’re currently holding _an intra-house emergency meeting_ because a conjured snake _hissed_ _at Justin_. It didn’t even bite him, just hissed and moved in his direction. I don’t think we get to throw any stones for overreactions."

There’s a moment of silence as everyone contemplates that particular truth and then proceeds to gracefully ignore it.

There is no such thing as an overreaction where Harry Potter is concerned, after all.

* * *

["Hey, Thomas! Wait up!"

Dean tensed. One hand already balled into a fist, while his other clung to Seamus’ arm to keep his friend from doing something stupid that would get them yet another detention. Once had been more than enough for the month. Still, when Finch-Fletchley caught up with them, only slightly out of breath, Dean entertained the thought of punching him. Hard. Might be worth the trouble he’d get into, if Madam Pomfrey couldn’t just wave her wand around and fix him up in a second.

"What do you want?" he gritted out instead and squeezed Seamus’ arm tighter when he felt him try and step forward.

"I apologize for insulting you," Finch-Fletchley blurted out. "I had no right to say what I did and I should’ve apologized immediately instead of trying to excuse myself and getting angry at you for getting offended. I’m sorry." He spoke fast, but not so quickly that he couldn’t be understood.

Dean blinked. Finch-Fletchley was a Hufflepuff and a muggleborn, but he was also a spoiled, rich brat who had more in common with Malfoy than either of them would ever admit. Dean didn’t like him and hadn’t even before Finch-Fletchley had made a comment about his skin color. Well, his not-posh-enough dialect first, then his skin color.

Still. He had apologized. And his mom always said that apologizing took courage and should be honored, even though it didn’t undo the damage.

"Alright." Dean grimaced. It was what his mom would want him to do. "Thanks for the apology."

Finch-Fletchley didn’t bolt though. Instead he stared at Dean nervously and wrung his hands. It was kind of nice. Dean wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn that kind of attention though. He’d done well pretending that Finch-Fletchley didn’t exist this past week.

"A-Am I forgiven?" Finch-Fletchley asked after another moment of uncertain silence.

Dean frowned.

It was weird, how intently Finch-Fletchley was watching him. Dean had gotten into arguments before and sure, he’d gotten apologies before too. Sometimes. Although the professors at Hogwarts didn’t make them apologize to each other the way his teachers at primary school had. Maybe that was why Finch-Fletchley was asking for forgiveness? Maybe he’d had a teacher like Mrs. Moore, who insisted that such grievances should be cleared up before everyone got home for the day?

"Sure. Just— Don’t do it again, I guess?"

It seemed to be good enough, though the stark relief on Finch-Fletchley’s face was maybe a bit of an overreaction. Dean couldn’t imagine that he’d missed Dean laughing at his lack of understanding in transfiguration all that much.

"Thanks! Oh—" Finch-Fletchley halted where he’d been about to turn on his ankles, a weird expression Dean couldn’t begin to figure out on his face. "Could you— I mean, could you tell Potter? That I apologizes?"

"Yeah?" It came out like a question, but clearly Finch-Fletchley didn’t catch that part. He sagged in obvious relief, which was even stranger, and then he was gone.

" _What the heck_?" Seamus asked from his side. Which was reassuring. At least someone here hadn’t gone mad.

They were back on their way to the Great Hall when Seamus spoke up next, thoughtful instead of annoyed.

"You think Harry _talked_ to him?"

It took a moment for Dean to puzzle through the way Seamus had stressed 'talked' as though he’d been meaning to say something else that he didn’t want anyone to overhear. They’d all learned early in their first year that rooming with the Harry Potter drew a certain attention to them. Sometimes it was useful. Sometimes not so much.

Then he remembered the way Harry had snarled at the fourth year for snapped at Neville about forgetting the password again. Not snapped, _snarled_.

"Maybe."

It was an odd thought. Dean had never spent much time with Harry. He seemed like a nice guy, they just weren’t close. Truth be told, Harry didn’t usually pay attention to anyone except Ron and Hermione. And Dean didn’t like any of them enough to be offended by that. But maybe he’d underestimated Harry. He did that sometimes. And he had ranted about Finch-Fletchley the other week hadn’t he? Until Ron had told him to shut up and let them sleep? Seamus had bristled and Harry hadn’t looked up and Dean had been sure he hadn’t been paying attention at all. Apparently he had.

Apparently he’d _done_ something about it.

Huh.]

* * *

["Hey, Harry?"

Harry turned back around to Dean, who was watching him intently.

" _Thanks_."

The word was low and strangely intense, but frankly Harry had other things to worry about. Like being a Parselmouth and figuring out what it would mean for him.

"You’re welcome," he said anyways and held Dean’s gaze for another moment, before Dean seemed satisfied with whatever he was searching for, nodded once and turned back to his food. Really, you’d think passing the butter wouldn’t be such a big deal— but so was talking to snakes, clearly, so who knew?

"Harry, are you even listening?" Hermione asked from his left, while Ron used her momentary distraction to shoot him a helpless glance.

And that was that.]

**Author's Note:**

> Odd, little idea that refused to leave me alone. The chapter can stand for itself, but I might add three more with the reactions of the other houses if the mood strikes me.
> 
> Honestly, this is just a bit of fun because once I got past the ridiculousness of everyone believing a twelve year old to be a Dark Lord, I started wondering what would happen if they took that a bit more seriously... Thoughts?


End file.
